


Wolf Father

by Lafaiette



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: After Trespasser, Angst, Blood, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Lactation Kink, Nightmares, Pregnant Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-17
Updated: 2015-09-17
Packaged: 2018-04-21 06:15:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,445
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4818200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lafaiette/pseuds/Lafaiette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Magic had already told them it was a male and his heart thundered in his chest when he thought about the life growing inside his wife’s body. He was going to be a father. He had given life to another person with Lavellan, his <i>vhenan</i>, and that little creature was going to be in their arms, safe and loved, soon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wolf Father

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this fic contains heavy themes and pregnant sex, as well as the presence of blood.

He saw them playing in a field, flowers at their feet, round faces flushed and happy as they chased each other.

They saw him too and ran to him, hands reaching for him, petals sticking out of their hair and rich clothes.

“Papae, Papae!”

He kneeled down to welcome them in his arms, his laughter as joyous and carefree as theirs, a sound devoid of any pain and heaviness for the first time in his long, long life. He pressed his face into their soft hair - they smelled like grass, pollen, and sugar, and he smooched their cheeks until they started giggling and squirming to free themselves.

“Mamae gave us frilly cakes! We left two for you!”

“Only two?” he said, quirking one eyebrow. “You ate all the rest? Such cruelty for your poor father!”

The little girl stuck out her tongue, grinned, and ran away, while the older boy looked sincerely sorry. Only for a moment, though. Then he said, eyes big with the excitement caused by the mere memory of that sweet food: “But Papae, they were _so_ good!”

“Ah, yes. I can understand.” Solas pinched his cheek, smirking. “Did you at least let your mother eat some too?”

“She ate the most!”

“I heard that!” a voice said from the distance. The little girl had reached her mother, who was observing father and son with an amused smile. “Come back here, you two, before we eat these too!”

The boy gasped and took Solas’ hand, almost making him run all the way to where Lavellan and the girl were sitting. On the soft blanked they had placed on the ground, there were plates, more flowers, and a basket with a bottle of fresh water in it. And, at the center, a smaller plate with two beautiful little cakes on it.

Solas licked his lips and Lavellan giggled.

“We know how much you love chocolate, so the children accepted to restrain themselves and leave them for you.” She pouted, although she wasn’t really mad. “I made this extreme, terrible sacrifice too.”

“You are too kind, my love.” Solas smiled, leaning down to kiss her. She tasted like sugar and fruits and he moaned into her mouth., bringing one hand on her face to caress it.

“Solas!” she gasped, looking at the children who had resumed playing nearby. “Not here!”

He sat down and wrapped his arms around her lithe body, a sweet smile on his lips as he pressed them on her left arm. She had asked him not to give her the magical one he usually summoned for her every day, saying she preferred to stay like that this time. He knew it still felt odd, that she still hadn’t got used to the sensation, so he kept kissing the limb - his hands rubbing circles on her waist - until she made a soft sound and tucked her head under his chin.

“You always make me _melt_.” she laughed, tracing the patterns on his silken shirt with her right hand.

“Even after all these years?” he asked, kissing the top of her head, and she nodded, cuddling into his embrace and holding him tightly in return.

“Always.”

He looked down at her, heart swelling with love and adoration.

“Sweet talker.” he said, kissing her hair again, then looking up at the landscape surrounding them. A vast, almost endless field of flower and scented grass, a forest barely visible in the distance. At their right, miles and miles ahead, crystal spires reaching the sky and tall, elegant towers, with gold and silver sparkling under the sun.

He looked away when Lavellan kissed his neck, his heart now filled with peace and a sense of deep accomplishment and contentment.

“You should eat the frilly cakes before the kids decide you don’t want them anymore.” she giggled. There was still some glaze on the corner of her mouth and he licked it away, making her gasp a second time.

“The cakes don’t taste as good as you, my wife.” he said, his voice deep, a low, husky sound. The light that he knew so well - the one that meant she wanted to him too, that she was flattered by words - appeared in her eyes and heat flushed her cheeks. He grinned, a promise for later, and her smile as she looked down at his shirt was shy, but also impatient and full of anticipation.

“Now, let’s see what we have here.”

He reached for the first cake and took a small bite, humming when the strong taste of chocolate and cream invaded his mouth. He offered it to Lavellan, but she shook her hand and kissed his already dirty mouth.

“It’s all for you, sweet husband.”

They talked about domestic, simple things as their children continued to play among the flowers. Things like their friends and their work, the spirits they had met and talked to the previous day, the book Lavellan was reading and her questions about it, the wolves that often visited their house.

A growl made them turn to where the children were playing. The boy had found Solas’ pelt cape and was snarling without aggressiveness at his sister. He looked goofy and funny, not like a predator, but a cute, playful animal instead. The fact that his face was smeared with petals also helped soften his look.

The girl started growling too and took her mother’s fur, wrapping it around her small body until she almost disappeared into it. She barked at her brother and both giggled, because the sound had come out odd and not menacing at all. Solas and Lavellan laughed with them, then the boy got serious again.

“I am the Dread Wolf!” he said, opening wide his arms. “And I have come to destroy this world!”

Solas’ blood froze in his veins and his fingers dug into Lavellan’s dress.

“Why?” the little girl said, opening wide her eyes. “That’s silly, Dread Wolf! People live in it!”

“I know.” the boy suddenly looked sad and a petal fell from his face. “But I have to do it.”

“Children.” Solas’ voice was hoarse, shaky, breathless, it sounded unfamiliar and wrong even to him. “Stop playing this game.”

But they didn’t seem to hear him and the girl spoke again: “If I show you how beautiful and good this world is, will you stop?” She looked sorrowful too, now, and Solas’ heart beat too fast, too hard.

“Children!” he cried out, then a sob made him look away from them. He stared down at Lavellan and saw her crying against his chest. Suddenly the field seemed less colorful, less warm, less alive, and he couldn’t move a muscle when she raised her head and looked right into his eyes, her own filled with tears and so, so _sad_.

“Solas.” she murmured, her voice a broken, small sound. “ _Vhenan_.”

His hands flew to her face to hold it, his mouth opened to reassure her, to speak to her, to say anything that could make the tears stop and fill her eyes with the same joy from before.

But when his skin touched hers, he felt something wet and sticky on his palms, something that wasn’t tears, and he slowly pulled his hands away to stare at them.

Blood, dense and crimson, staining his fingers down to his wrists.

“Solas!” Lavellan cried harder. “ _Vhenan_!”

He woke up with a shout, tears running down his cheeks, and his heart swelled with loss and despair.

  
 

\- - - -

   
  


He started to drink tea, but not even the strongest concoction could help him evade sleep forever. He could control his dreams and walk the infinite paths of the Fade without peril, but his mind was not as strong as it had been before and his grasp on his emotions often faltered.

He saw Lavellan a second time: they were in a forest and their two children were with them.

Sunlight shone through the leaves, flowers and plants grow around them, a colorful painting that put the mind and soul at ease.

The kids were chatting about the animals they had seen, giving particular importance to their colors and shapes, and the parents followed them walking hand in hand, a fond smile on their faces.

“ _Fen’mae, fen’bae_!” they exclaimed all of a sudden, pointing at a beautiful red bush not far ahead. They seemed to like plants and nature in general and after ensuring those flowers were safe, Solas and Lavellan let them touch and pick them.

“Papae,” the little girl asked, looking up from the small bouquet in her tiny hands, “when you will teach us how to turn into wolves?”

“In due time.” he replied, smiling down at her and ruffling her hair. “You are still too young and need to know many more things first.”

“Mamae, did Papae teach you?” the boy said, turning to his mother, and she nodded with a grin.

“Yes. I didn’t know how to do it before he showed me.” She looked up at the clear sky that could be seen through the foliage. “To be honest, I wouldn’t have been able to do it years ago. The world wasn’t full of magic like it is now.”

“No magic?” the kids sounded terribly sad and bewildered, as if they couldn’t imagine a place without the pull of the Fade around them.

“There was magic, but it wasn’t as strong as now. Only few people could use it and the spirits couldn’t visit us freely.”

Solas shifted his weight on his feet awkwardly, the guilt of what he had created so many ages ago still strong within him. Lavellan was speaking without malice nor anger nor resentment; she was only describing the old world as it had been before they had fixed it and her smile was happy, relaxed, content, aware of their huge accomplishment, of the good revolution they had made together.

He pulled her close and kissed her temple, one of their many ways to show affection to each other.

“I like when spirits come to visit!” the boy exclaimed, bouncing on his feet and sending flowers fly everywhere. “They are kind and they always want to play or talk!”

“They are good people.” Lavellan agreed and Solas’ heart swell with pride. “We should ask Uncle Cole to drop by soon too!”

The kids cheered, but the girl seemed still worried about how different the world had been before. She tugged at her mother’s dress and looked back and forth from her to her father.

“ _Fen’mae, fen’bae_ , is the world okay now?”

“Yes, _da’vhenan_. Don’t worry.” Lavellan smiled, stroking her cheek lovingly. She looked at Solas, the sun in her eyes, and he beamed at her.

“It is true.” he intervened. “Everything is fine now.”

The little girl grinned and turned to her brother, who had been listening to the conversation intently. They seemed reassured and happy as ever, now, and Solas and Lavellan watched them as they searched for more pretty flowers.

“Do not wander too far!” he said when they moved among the trees, their beautiful clothes the same color of the grass, leaves, and sunlight surrounding them. He followed them with his eyes, afraid of losing her in the luscious vegetation; he frowned and his fingers twitched when the boy stung himself with a thorn, but the little one soon resumed playing again as if nothing had happened and Solas relaxed.

Lavellan laughed, softly and sweet, into his ear as she brought her face near to his. Her lips brushed against his cheek and he hummed, enjoying the sensation.

“Don’t worry, sweet husband. We will always be there for them.” she said. He turned his head to face her and smiled. She was beautiful, radiant and bright, and he felt love invade him, love and the beautiful, perfect realization of finally being able to stay and share an eternal life of bliss and joy with her.

“Come.” he said, lips curled into a grin, and he led her where other flowers were, flowers from Arlathan that hadn’t existed in the old Thedas, but that were grown again in the new world. They were luminous, transparent like glass, born from magic, and they sang feebly when he touched them, a delicate thrill that resonated in the calm forest.

The children were still up ahead, now collecting small stones found on the ground.

“What are you doing, _ma sa’lath_?” Lavellan asked with a giggle from behind him, amused by his broad hands caressing the tiny, translucent petals. He chuckled, his smile so big his cheeks almost hurt, and didn’t answer, preferring to show her his surprise once it was ready.

He moved his hands around, slowly, and the flowers followed them and the magic flowing from his fingertips. They changed color - green, red, golden, fuchsia - and the smallest ones bloomed fully, similar to gems. Satisfied, he picked them with care and used his magic a second time to shape and entwine them into a stunning flower crown.

He put the biggest one at the center, the most beautiful jewel that could shine on his beloved’s head, and he smiled, proud and happy.

“A gift,” he said, raising and turning to where Lavellan was, “for my sweet and kind wife.”

But she wasn’t there anymore and Solas’ face fell.

He looked around, frantically, and noticed with growing fear that the forest was now too serene, too quiet. The kids weren’t collecting stones and petals anymore, the wind didn’t carry the echo of their laughter, he couldn’t find Lavellan and her smile anywhere.

He was alone, the flower crown forgotten in his hands, and he desperately looked behind every tree, breathing too fast, blood like ice, lips pale.

“ _Vhenan_! Children!” he called, an anguished cry, similar to the one of a wounded animal. The colors of the forest were muted, dull, he could smell no scents nor Lavellan’s familiar fragrance. The kids’ tiny steps on the soft ground were gone and he couldn’t see their heads peeking out from the endless green and brown of the woods.

“ _Vhenan_! Children!” he repeated, clutching his chest, his grip on the flower crown too strong. He felt a sharp pang of pain and looked down at his left hand: those flowers had no thorns, yet he had stung himself and blood, scarlet and glittering, tainted his skin and the petals.

He looked up, at the sky covered by the tall trees, but the light of the sun was dim and cold and offered no comfort, no warmth, no guidance. Wolves howled sorrowfully far away, a deep lament that reached him and made his heart tremble, and he let out a sob, tears in his eyes.

He continued to call Lavellan and their children, running through the forest until his lungs burned and his head was spinning. His face was bloody now too: the small branches of the trees and sharp leaves had hit him like whips during his mad research, but he paid no mind to his cuts and fell on the ground, forehead against the cold dirt, body wrecked by sobs.

He woke up with a gasp, tears staining his pillow, his heart still beating too fast, the pain and regret it contained flowing through him like poison.

   
  


\- - - -

  
 

His agents noticed the dark circles under his eyes and his constant tiredness, but didn’t dare to say anything. They simply followed his orders, gave him reports and news, and kept him informed about the disbanded Inquisition and its remaining members.

They gave him all the information they could gather about the former Inquisitor too, as he had requested, and he soon started to ask for more details, more little things that could tell him how Lavellan was.

Even before the nightmares, he had looked for her in the Fade and appeared to her as a wolf. He watched her from afar, never letting her come closer, and he could see a reflection of reality on her face. She looked worn, thinner, but also confident and sweet and kind as ever. She always smiled at him.

But now, for the first time in his life, he dreaded sleep, he feared his dreaming mind and what it could show him. He was afraid to look for her and visit her in her dreams, because that could cause the nightmares that haunted him. He knew that, but he couldn’t stay away. So he kept going to her, never speaking, never turning into his normal form, but always watching her.

And then the nightmares punctually returned, sometimes not even letting him reach her dreams first.

The third time he dreamed of Lavellan, she was heavy with child, gorgeous and tender as she read in their bed, magic and eternity restored around and into her. She was still missing her arm and Solas felt love and warmth flow into him, a rush of emotion that made him walk to the bed almost soundlessly.

He didn’t know that was a dream too and the Wolf fell into the trap his own mind and heart had prepared for him.

“ _Vhenan_.” he said softly, joining her in bed, and she beamed at him, forgetting about the book and taking his hand in hers.

“ _Ma sa’lath_.” she said and sighed contently, eyes closed, as he cupped her cheek and kissed her forehead.

“Did you sleep well?” he asked and she nodded, smiling brightly. Motherhood had made her rounder, softer, sweeter, and his hands soon moved to her shoulders, where the nightgown was slightly lowered. He caressed her skin and saw her shiver pleasantly as she looked up at him from under her long eyelashes.

Before he could even realize it, they were naked and his mouth was peppering her warm body with kisses, using the utmost care and gentleness. She whimpered happily when his lips found her heavy breasts and his hands kneaded her thighs; her hand cradled his head as she leaned down to kiss it, her sounds small and high-pitched.

He moaned as the rich taste of her milk filled his mouth and she gasped, her blunt nails scratching his skin.

“Solas!” she called and he raised his head, looking up at her with hazy eyes. There was a request in her eyes and he smiled.

“My heart.” he said, before gently guiding her down on her back. She lay there, open and ready, her chest heaving, her lips curled into a happy smile, and the sight made him tear up.

“You are so beautiful.” he murmured, awed, and her smile became brighter.

He kissed her face and swollen belly reverently, tracing her skin with his fingertips, never applying too much pressure, but she was impatient, lively, young, and soon started to writhe under his delicate touch.

So he went lower, until his mouth touched what she wanted, and she melted, thrusting into his face with keens and loud moans.

He moaned too, her taste different now that she was pregnant, sweeter than ever, intoxicating, and he drank, licked, and sucked her until she begged him to fill her, to be within her.

“Solas.” she whined when he rose, his face wet and glistening. “ _Vhenan_ , please.”

He lifted her body to align it with his, hands gently massaging her thighs, and smiled down at her.

“Ready, my love?”

She pouted and whined again and he laughed, filling her fully with a slow, but firm stroke. The sound she made almost made him come instantly, but he bit his lips and set up a gentle pace, eyes never leaving her.

Her hand moved, looking for his, and he gave it to her, careful not to put his weight on her and hurt her. She was wet, loose and ready for him, welcoming him without friction, and he lost himself into her, their eyes locked, both smiling and giggling and laughing through moans.

She came first, back arching, her small hand tightly held by his longer, bigger fingers, and he followed soon after, filling her with a deep, content sigh.

He fell next to her and seeing her so relaxed and sated on their bed, resting down on wolf furs, made another spark of heat pool in his groin. She giggled and turned to him, taking his hand and bringing it to her chest.

“Are you alright?” he asked, panicking a bit. “Did I hurt you? Are you comfortable?”

“I am fine, Solas.” she smiled at him, a sheen of sweat on her forehead, hair stuck to it, her body glistening and almost glowing in the aftermath. He moved closer to her, mindful of her swollen belly, and kissed her deeply, every fiber of his being focused on her, devoted to her.

She put her head under his chin, like she did every time they hugged in bed like that, and he wrapped his arms around her, lips pressing small kisses on her hair.

“We should find a name for the baby soon.” he said, his smile big and excited. Magic had already told them it was a male and his heart thundered in his chest when he thought about the life growing inside his wife’s body. He was going to be a father. He had given life to another person with Lavellan, his _vhenan_ , and that little creature was going to be in their arms, safe and loved, soon.

He felt Lavellan stir, but she stayed in his arms, and he continued: “There are many wonderful names from ancient Arlathan, words that carry wishes of health, love, and happiness. Would… would you like to hear some?”

He had pronounced the last words timidly, not sure if she wanted to use a name from the old Elvhenan or hear now the ones he knew. He was happy with whatever she chose and he made sure to tell her. But she didn’t reply and he looked down at her, curious.

“ _Vhenan_?”

She was crying, silent and still, and he stroked his hands up and down her back in a soothing manner. She often had those outbursts, caused by the pregnancy and the changes in her body, but they were always tears of joy or excessive excitement that she couldn’t contain.

“ _Vhenan_.” he said, smiling and lifting her head with a finger under her chin. “I know, my heart, I know how beautiful this is and…”

“We could have this.” she suddenly said and then he realized those were not tears of happiness, but of utter and terrible desperation.

“What?” he breathed out, his blood turning to ice, the furs rough and bristly on his skin.

“This.” she touched her belly and gestured at them both. “We could have this.” She let out a heart-wrenching sob and Solas shook his head, unable to understand. He tried to cradle her face in his hands to look at her and let her explain, but she cried harder and pushed him away when he tried to touch her.

“ _Ma sa’lath_!” he cried out, her rejection burning him like acid. She moved far from him on the huge bed and sat down, staring at him with bloodshot eyes, her body shaking. The room was cold now, cold and dark.

“We could have this.” Lavellan repeated. There was no accusation in her voice, only sadness, regret, longing. “Why don’t you want it?”

“I want it!” he reached for her, but didn’t dare to touch her and his hand stopped midair. He barely felt the tears streaming down his face as he choked on a sob. “ _Vhenan_ , I want this!”

“Then why are you doing this?” her expression, her trembling lips and mournful eyes, were tearing his heart out.

“ _Vhenan_ …” he shook his head again. His breath was ragged, his mouth dry. “My love, my heart, I don’t…”

“Why are you doing this?” she wept, grasping his wrist and pressing his open palm on her belly. Her eyes frantically looked for something on his face and Solas couldn’t look away, a deep pain clutching his chest like claws. “Feel him kick! You are his father! Why are you doing this to yourself? Why do you want to be alone?”

She let out another cry and this was one familiar, it was a cry of pain he had heard before, in front of an eluvian. Memories came back to him; he remembered, he knew now that this was a dream, but that sound ripped him apart a second time and he instinctively looked down, not at her already cut arm, but at her belly instead.

Blood, dark and thin, was pouring out from between her legs, staining her skin and the furs beneath her.

“There is only death on this journey.” she murmured and Solas desperately tried to stop the flow, his hands already red.

“ _No!_ ”

He woke up with a scream, sheets ripped under his fists, and wailed until his throat ached, heart filled with horror and more loss.

  
 

\- - - -

   
  


No matter what he drank, sleep always found him and his only comfort was Lavellan - the _real_ Lavellan - and her dreams which he visited as soon as his grasp on the Fade and his mind was strong and controlled enough.

No nightmares, no visions, no blood could reach him there. That was their personal space, their haven, their own rotunda which witnessed their love like the one at Skyhold had done.

She often dreamed a forest, unlike the one from his nightmare. Hers was less rich, there were fewer trees and they weren’t as tall as the ones he had dreamed; there were simpler flowers and plants, identical to the ones they had met and picked in their travels, there was no magic in the air, no petals changed color.

Yet it was the most beautiful forest he had ever seen and he longed to walk through it with her every night.

He never spoke nor changed his form, but he followed her as she talked to him, her voice tender and kind, her smile warm. Her beauty wasn’t different from the one he had seen in his twisted dreams, but there was _reality_ written on her face, the hardships of her young life showed through her skin and her eyes, and her missing limb was less elegant that its counterpart in Solas’ nightmares, more crude, concrete.

She was stunning, _perfect_ , and he longed to join her in the waking world and hug her, smell her scent - elfroot, sweat, and dirt - and kiss her skin, both salty and sweet. He wanted to see _that_ Lavellan, because she was the real one, she was the one whose smile really fended the darkness in his heart, whose eyes could actually lit up with joy, whose cheerful laughter could make his heart swell and soar.

He wanted her and his duty felt heavier and harder than ever.

One day, he found her dream again and waited for her to turn.

She was dressed in the light clothes she always dreamed herself wearing: a simple outfit to travel without problems, comfortable and warm. He watched her adjust her cape with her right hand, then she gasped and tensed up. She had sensed him, she knew he has behind her.

“Hello, _vhenan_.” she said, a smile in her voice. This was real. This was his Lavellan, his heart, the love of his life. There were no lies here, no horrors awaited him in droplets of blood. She was fine - he always made sure she was fine and safe - and her words contained only truth and love and light.

He didn’t reply and she continued, sitting on a rock to observe a stream just a few meters away: “I left a scarf for you in the base and one of your agents must have taken it, because it was gone after only one hour. Seriously, how do they get in? Leliana is going crazy, but I am sure she will find this one too.”

She giggled, bringing her hand on her mouth to stifle the sound, and added: “Now that I think about it, that scarf probably looks bad on your new outfit. I wanted to give you something warm and suitable for every day, but the style isn’t the best. I…” she hesitated and made a low, shy sound. “I made it. It’s a bit hard to sew something with one hand only, but Harding helped me and Dagna promised to make me a mechanical arm or… or something like that.” She laughed, still not turning to face him, and said: “So prepare to receive more crude, silly clothes from me!”

A comfortable silence fell between them and Lavellan started picking up pebbles and little stones to throw into the stream. Most of them fell into the water, others rolled on the bank of the river.

“Is it cold where you are now?” she asked, despite knowing he wouldn’t speak. “I attached a note to the scarf, did you read it?”

_Remember to eat well!_

Yes, he had read it. He kept every note and message she left for him in a wooden box and often went back to read them, perfectly aware of how much something so simple and innocent could change his plans.

“I wanted to leave a frilly cake too, but we haven’t gone to Val Royeaux in months and we don’t have time to order them.” She pouted, he could see her profile now, and mumbled: “Not even money, now that I think about it.”

He would make sure to tell his agents to leave sweets and pastries for her. He always returned her gifts with something - a flower, leather gloves to protect her hand from the freezing weather, sweet oiled buns of bread she had always loved. He didn’t reply to her messages - he couldn’t, even though he wanted to more than anything else -, but his agents had told him - with surprisingly bright smiles - that she always accepted his gifts with an elated expression and shimmering eyes and cherished them with great care.

She mentioned his last present now, with a huge grin, her head almost turned to him. She didn’t dare to look, though, afraid he would disappear like he had tended to do at first, when the mere sight of her after the events in the Crossroads scorched his heart like fire.

“Thank you for that book. The Elvhen used in it is simple and easy and I can understand it without problems. It’s interesting.” she looked down, her smile melancholic, and Solas knew she was thinking about the days and evenings they used to spend in the rotunda, reading together. He used to teach her more Elvhen and help her with her pronunciation and their lessons often ended in kisses, cuddles on the sofa, or playful games in bed, up in her tower.

Then her face lit up again and she finally turned to him, mouth open, ready to say something else.

The sound died on her lips as she saw him.

He smiled at her, hands behind his back, his armor catching the sunrays and turning them into sparks of light. Lavellan’s scarf was wrapped around his neck.

He saw his jawbone pendant - which he had left next to her before going through the eluvian - hanging on her chest and his smile broadened. She was still wearing it.

“Solas.” she murmured, her eyes never leaving him; they stopped on his face and she made a step forward. His smile didn’t falter and he didn’t move.

“Are you well?” she asked, always kind, always loving, always worrying. He nodded and even if she wasn’t fully convinced - he knew his eyes were tired and the circles under them dark -, she smiled back at him.

“It doesn’t look so bad!” she said, nodding at the scarf, and he chuckled. The sound made her gasp.

They kept staring at each other for a long time; Lavellan’s cheeks were red, hot, and she was torn between jumping into his arms and staying right there to avoid making him go away.

He would never get enough of her; he watched so intensely, his smile so tender, she had to look away, almost overwhelmed. But she was smiling, she was happy again, she was hopeful, and hope grew in his heart too.

“Would…” she cleared her throat and looked back at him. “Would you like to walk with me?”

He nodded and chuckled again seeing her enthusiasm.

They followed the road her sleeping mind had created and he wondered if there was, after all, a way for him to stay with her, to follow her same path in the waking world too and change Thedas without hurting anyone.

He wondered if he could become the father of her children.

 

After that day, the nightmares stopped coming.

**Author's Note:**

> Solas/Solavellan Fluff Friday isn't here yet, so I am forgiven for writing this, right? Right? ಥvಥ
> 
> This is by far the saddest Solavellan fic I've ever written in my life, but I am a sucker for happy/hopeful endings, so I added it at the end. I hope it helped you feel better. ;v;


End file.
